The effort is led by Congressman Walter Jones of North Carolina, who came to the Marines’ defense 10 years ago and has continued to advocate on their behalf. He has introduced a resolution, H.Res.21, that would require Neller to “issue a public document certifying that members of Fox Company … were not at fault in the firefight … [and] deserve to have their names cleared.”

Jones, a Republican whose congressional district includes Marine Corps base Camp Lejeune, has bipartisan backing. Among his supporters are Congressman Ruben Gallego, an Arizona Democrat, Congressman Duncan Hunter, a California Republican, and Congressman Seth Moulton, a Massachusetts Democrat. All three are recent combat veterans who served in the Marines.

“These Marines will be old one day, as I am,” said Jones, 74. During a 90-minute press conference to announce the resolution, now pending with the House Armed Services Committee, he connected Fox Company’s plight to that of two Marine Corps pilots blamed unfairly for the fatal crash in April 2000 of what was then the service’s experimental MV-22 Osprey. It took Jones 14 years to convince the Pentagon to clear their names.

“They need to be vindicated today,” he said. “Not fourteen years from now. That’s what this is all about: honesty and integrity. War is hell. I’ve never been there, but when you hear stories like this, … the war fighter needs to be given the benefit of the doubt.”

Fox Company — as the unit’s commander, Galvin dubbed it Task Force Violent — was the first from Marine Corps Special Operations Command sent into combat. Military Times documented their experience in a five-part investigative series, titled “Task Force Violent: The unforgiven” and published in 2015.

The complete account is available here:

READ PART 1:The tragic betrayal of an elite American commando unit 

READ PART 2:The generals resisted MARSOC. Their Marines paid the price

READ PART 3:Marines survived this nightmare. No one believed their story

READ PART 4: Embattled commandos came under fire — on the home front

READ PART 5: Betrayed Marines fight to recapture stolen honor

As that investigation revealed, Fox Company had been set up to fail from Day One. The Marines were sent into the war zone dangerously under-resourced only to be orphaned once in theater without a clearly defined mission. After the attack on March 4, 2007, they were portrayed as possible war criminals by the media and senior military commanders more immediately concerned with political fallout than determining ground truth. And when a military tribunal definitively cleared Fox Company’s Marines of wrongdoing, their exoneration never received the same degree of media coverage as the initial allegations. That was by design, Galvin believes.

The experience left many of these men shattered. The stigma has followed them ever since, stunting their military careers and making it difficult for many to find meaningful work in the private sector, said Galvin, who is self employed, having retired from the Marines as a major in 2014. Vindication, he added, would mean they can finally move past the shame and sense of betrayal they still feel.

“I’m glad to see all of these men taking a stand,” Galvin said of Jones and the other lawmakers supporting his resolution. “And I hope all Americans who see this will contact their representatives and make them aware.”

The Marine Corps has remained mostly silent on the matter, pointing to its legal outcome in suggesting the institution considers the case closed. A spokesman for Neller issued the following statement:

“The Marine Corps stands by the 2008 decision of then-commander of U.S. Marine Forces Central Command, Lt. Gen. Samuel Helland, who reviewed the findings of a court of inquiry and concluded that, as it relates to the March 4, 2007, attack, the MSOC-F Marines acted appropriately and in accordance with the rules of engagement, and the tactics, techniques and procedures in place at the time in response to a complex attack.”

Galvin maintains that this characterization — “acted appropriately” — makes it sound as though he and his men got away with murder.

The proceedings were ordered by Jim Mattis, at the time a three-star Marine general overseeing operations in Afghanistan and Iraq. He’s now President Donald Trump’s defense secretary. The court case lasted three weeks. Steve Morgan, a retired lieutenant colonel who in 2008 sat on that judicial panel, has become one of the Marines’ most vocal champions. Speaking alongside Jones and Galvin on Thursday, he shot back at critics who have alleged Fox Company got a pass.

“The court of inquiry was not whitewashed, as some have said,” said Morgan, who also saw intense battle in Afghanistan. “I would not dare give General Mattis a whitewashed product. No one would.”

Gallego, who at 37 is serving his second term in the House, fought in Iraq with Lima Company, 3rd Battalion, 25th Marines. The Ohio-based reserve unit would become one of the war’s hardest hit, losing several dozen men between 2005 and 2006. Despite his political differences with Jones, Gallego said, he was drawn to support the Fox Company resolution because it’s a Marine’s duty to help other Marines in need.

He offered only brief remarks Thursday, but sought to show solidarity with Galvin and his men. What’s befallen them, Gallego said, must not be allowed to happen to others.

“I know how scary and confusing war can be. But there’s nothing more scary and confusing,” he added, “than when your honor is called into question.”

Andrew deGrandpre is Military Times’ senior editor and Pentagon bureau chief. On Twitter:  @adegrandpre.

President Obama’s nominee to head the Joint Chiefs of Staff is facing pressure from at least one member of Congress to address lingering fallout from an eight-year-old war-crimes case.

Marine Corps Gen. Joseph Dunford, who is pending Senate approval

will

​to become the U.S. military’s most senior officer, has no known connection to the case, which centers around a deadly — and highly publicized — battle in Afghanistan involving American special operations troops. But

Congressman

​Rep. Walter Jones, a Republican member of the House Armed Services Committee, said he believes that as the Marine Corps commandant, Dunford has an obligation to publicly apologize on behalf of his service for what became a witch hunt designed to put honorable men in prison over phony claims they killed innocent civilians.

Jones wrote to Dunford this week seeking a “formal, public apology” for several members of Marine Special Operations Company Foxtrot, according to his letter. Referring to the Marines as “victims of a serious injustice,” the congressman told Dunford that he also wants their personnel records updated to “remove the stains of being wrongly accused of homicide.”

“These Marines have every right to be vindicated,” Jones told Military Times in an interview, “and thanked for what they did for our country.”

A spokesman for Dunford declined to comment, saying it’s unlikely the commandant will make any public statements on the matter before he responds to the congressman.

Gen. Joseph Dunford

Photo Credit: Mike Morones/Staff

The five-part series, titled “Task Force Violent: The unforgiven,” was built over six months using a trove of recently declassified documents related to their investigation and subsequent court proceedings, plus numerous interviews with those most intimately connected to the case. The project revealed how Fox Company’s Marines were doomed to fail long before they arrived in Afghanistan, the victims of weak guidance and inadequate support from their higher headquarters, and a haphazard, highly questionable investigation overseen by an Army general and his chief of staff.

READ PART 1: The tragic betrayal of an elite Marine Corps commando unitREAD PART 2: The generals resisted MARSOC. Their Marines paid the priceREAD PART 3: Marine commandos survived a nightmare. No one believed their storyREAD PART 4: Embattled Marines came under fire — on the home frontREAD PART 5: On the outside, betrayed Marines fight to recapture their stolen honorThe unit maintains no civilians were killed during the battle. Officially, the Marine Corps concluded in May 2008 that Fox Company’s Marines “acted appropriately” on the battlefield, that their use of force was justified as they encountered and escaped a complex ambush in the minutes following a suicide strike on their convoy. No criminal charges were filed in connection with those events. And afterwards, the case quietly disappeared from the spotlight.

Jones, who was interviewed for the “Task Force Violent” series, came to Fox Company’s defense in 2007 after a series of public statements by several senior military officials seemed to condemn the Marines before their case went to court. He read about these new revelations “with dismay,” he told Dunford.

Afghan officials inspect the wreckage of the suicide car bomb that targeted a platoon of troops from Marine Special Operations Company Foxtrot on March 4, 2007, in village of Bati Kot, a village in Afghanistan’s Nangarhar province. The incident set in motion a chain of events that led to the Marines’ premature expulsion from the war zone, allegations of homicide and yearlong legal battle.

Photo Credit: Rahamt Gul/AP

While many of the Marines implicated in the case have since left the Marine Corps, some remain in uniform. The stigma haunts them even now, they say.

Fox Company’s commander, Maj. Fred Galvin, has spent years trying to restore the unit’s honor and help his men make peace with their past. “There’s no statute of limitations for doing the right thing,” he told Military Times this week, a pointed response to those who may argue that, after eight years, the case is ancient history and not the current commandant’s responsibility to address. He and his men have endured physical, psychological and professional setbacks as a result of their ordeal, which for many left them feeling ashamed, embittered and fearful for their safety.

Retired Maj. Fred Galvin, photographed at his home in Overland Park, Kansas.

Photo Credit: Mike Morones/Staff

When the “Task Force Violent” series concluded in early April, Galvin, who retired in 2014 after 26 years of military service, was contacted by Dunford’s staff out of concern for the Marines’ well being, he said. Galvin explained to the commandant’s representative that, to be made whole again, they want official acknowledgment that no civilians were killed during the battle. The phrase “acted appropriately,” Galvin contends, leaves room for doubt.

He’s also pushing for the declassification and public release of all remaining documentation related to the investigation and court proceedings. The court’s full report, including its findings and recommendations, was unsealed late last year along with thousands of pages of courtroom testimony, but much more remains locked away.

Finally, Galvin wants accountability for those who meant to see him and the others sent to jail. Specifically, he alleges the two uniformed attorneys appointed to the court acted unscrupulously when gathering witness statements ahead of the three-week tribunal.

Both lawyers refute the claims.

“The commandant’s staff contacted me, but it resulted in no action. They said that if I am dissatisfied, then I could contact the Marine Corps’ staff judge advocate,” Galvin

he

​said. “I elected to engage members of Congress instead because I have no trust they are going to do anything voluntarily.”

Galvin

​ He declined to identify the other lawmakers who’ve taken interest in his case, citing their desire to work unimpeded by

from

​public scrutiny. Jones, who has a long history of advocacy on behalf of rank-and-file service members, holds

s

​no such concerns. He praised Dunford’s nomination to lead the Joint Chiefs of Staff, saying

also that

​he is hopeful the commandant will investigate the merit of Jones’ request before Dunford’s confirmation hearing. The Senate has not set a date for that yet.

“There’s a history with me and Fox Company,” the congressman said. “They were unfairly singled out. This never should have gotten as far as it did. … The evidence is available now. I hope the Marine Corps will do what’s right.”

Editor’s note: This is the final installment in a five-part series.

KANSAS CITY, Missouri — The mission brief was meticulously detailed. Each objective, as well as every hospital and police precinct along the route, was plotted by satellite imagery. Body armor was optional. The mission commander would directly confront any threat. And should he become incapacitated, the instructions for escalating force were clear: shout, shove, shoot.

This was not Mosul, or Wanat. This was Kansas City’s urban core, where Fred Galvin owns, operates and maintains 13 automated cash machines. It is rife with gang-related violence, he explained. From 2000 until 2014, the annual murder rate here made it one of the nation’s 10 deadliest cities. Galvin spent more than half his life in the Marine Corps, much of that time leading small stealthy units in violent flashpoints abroad. A 45-year-old retired major, he now leverages his specialized military training as a lone-wolf entrepreneur filling a void in a poverty-stricken pocket of America’s heartland.

Galvin’s Arrowhead Capital is a fast-growing and surprisingly lucrative line of work, but if things hadn’t taken a devastating turn, had he not been betrayed by the institution he loved, he’d likely still be in the Marine Corps. But when he hung up his uniform in 2014, Galvin found it impossible to get a job, he said. Google his name. The search results underscore why.

Galvin was commander of Marine Special Operations Company Foxtrot in March 2007, when he became a central figure in one of the most publicized — and ultimately flawed — war-crimes cases since the Vietnam War. More than a year later, after a three-week military tribunal called a court of inquiry, Galvin and six of his Marines were cleared of all wrongdoing related to allegations they indiscriminately killed innocent Afghans when a suicide car bomber targeted their convoy. But long before they appeared in court, Fox Company’s Marines were publicly condemned by several senior military officers, sold out by those responsible for upholding the unassailable American ideal that anyone accused of a crime is innocent until proven guilty.

Widespread media coverage depicted them as out-of-control cowboys. The public scrutiny was embarrassing. The prospect of going to prison was terrifying. And their 10-month legal battle was relentlessly stressful. One enlisted Marine, a Mexican national, was convinced his mother would be deported. Others recalled their superiors telling them “it doesn’t look good for you boys.”

Collectively, the fallout left them physically sick, psychologically broken and deeply embittered toward the leaders they blame for causing and perpetuating their anguish and shame, including men who’ve earned generals’ stars. For some like Galvin, there have been lasting professional setbacks, too.

But the betrayal from within, that shattered their trust in the institution. It defied the core values instilled in these men from the moment they joined the Corps: honor, courage, commitment. “This still haunts us,” one of those Marines explained, “because no one has publicly acknowledged we did the right thing that day. We did our jobs — and we were crucified for it.”

Galvin has been on a mission to restore honor for Fox Company, one that consumes him even when some suggest he should move on with a new life. But he’s not wired that way. He believes he owes it to his men to secure the full and public vindication they’ve never had.

Officially, the Marine Corps concluded in May 2008 that Fox Company’s Marines “acted appropriately” on the battlefield, that their use of force was justified as they encountered and escaped a complex ambush in the minutes following the suicide strike. No criminal charges were filed in connection those events. Afterwards, the case quietly disappeared from the spotlight.

To Galvin and others associated with this affair, “the statement we ‘acted appropriately’ is weak and leaves far too much to the imagination,” he said. “It’s easily interpreted as ‘we got away with murder.’ … Even today, I have friends call me regularly saying this guy or that guy smeared our names, behind our backs.”

“American service members must never be treated this way, especially not by our own government’s attorneys who, when the facts clearly proved we were innocent, argued … to send us to jail.” Galvin said. “What happened to us … can’t be seen as a success. The Marine Corps slogan of ‘Mission first and Marines always’ is indicative of how we served. And we respectfully request the record be set straight by a clear statement from the Corps … [saying] ‘these Marines did not kill any Afghan civilians.’ This will allow [us] to be reconciled inside the Corps and for the healing process to begin.”

Marine Corps leadership has remained quiet on the matter.

Fox Company was the first-ever operational unit deployed into combat from MARSOC, the Marine Corps’ component within U.S. Special Operations Command. To this day there are aspects of this fateful experience, including key courtroom testimony, that remain classified.

The court of inquiry was overseen by a panel of three senior Marine Corps officers, whose findings are outlined in a newly declassified report. It lays bare precisely how, in many ways, Fox Company’s Marines were doomed from Day One, the victims of poor guidance and woefully insufficient support from their higher headquarters; and how in Afghanistan a tenuous situation became truly turbulent, culminating with their being ejected from the war zone, subjected to investigation, trial by public opinion and eventual adjudication.

Additional insights emerged through interviews with Fox Company Marines and others close to their case, many of whom agreed to speak only on condition of anonymity as some still hold sensitive jobs within the Defense Department and elsewhere in the federal government. Others cited lingering fears of violent retaliation by enemies affiliated with those they encountered on the battlefield eight years ago.

As the months and years ticked by following their formal exoneration, the MARSOC 7, as they became known, found an unlikely advocate in Steve Morgan, one of those three officers who oversaw the court proceedings. A lieutenant colonel at the time, Morgan retired from the military in July 2008. He remains troubled by the flawed investigation, which was carried out by an Air Force colonel and endorsed by an Army general; by the shoddy staff work overseen by two Army officers in theater, which he believes precipitated Fox Company’s ouster; by the overzealous attempt to put Galvin and his men in prison; and finally by what he considers the unconscionable disloyalty to those sent into harm’s way.

Morgan said he began his service on the court of inquiry ready to nail fellow Marines if they had committed war crimes. But he quickly was convinced that Fox Company had done nothing wrong and was being unfairly targeted. Like Galvin, he continues to pursue justice for Fox Company though his days in the Marine Corps are over.

In mid-2009, he wrote to the Defense Department Inspector General. Months prior, the IG’s office completed an investigation clearing Army Maj. Gen. Frank Kearney, who bounced Fox Company from Afghanistan, of misconduct claims made by another of the Marines’ allies, Congressman Walter Jones of North Carolina. The court of inquiry concluded that Kearney potentially influenced the Air Force colonel who recommended the Marines be charged with negligent homicide.

Why, Morgan asked the IG, were the court’s findings not considered in its investigation? The court’s report, he said to the IG, “is in direct contradiction with several areas of your report.” It required involvement from his own congressman, Joe Pitts of Pennsylvania, before the IG addressed Morgan’s questions, many of which the IG dismissed as irrelevant to its investigation into the general’s conduct.

Kearney, who retired as a three-star general, told Military Times that even though the inspector general concluded he acted reasonably and within his authority, the unwelcome scrutiny “ruined my career.” He did not wish to interviewed for this report.

The court’s officers deemed it appropriate that Galvin was relieved of command and given an adverse performance appraisal. But “I have come to believe that conclusion was a mistake,” Morgan told the records review board in his letter.

“Should he have been relieved of command? Yeah, because that’s the code. It’s an accountability issue,” he said during an interview with Military Times. “But once all the mud cleared from the stream and you had drinking water again, [his superiors] should’ve gone back and added an addendum to Fred’s fitness report. They didn’t make the effort to look out for Fred and his Marines and be as objective as they could.”

Morgan can become emotional while discussing Fox Company’s experience. He and Galvin are alike in this regard and a few others. Both saw fierce combat during their careers, notably for Morgan during a 2004 tour in Afghanistan’s Paktika province, where the unit he commanded was involved in an ambush that claimed the life of one of his troops and left 14 others wounded.

At the time he was appointed to the court of inquiry, Morgan was working at Marine Corps Forces Command in Norfolk, Virginia, as the deputy chief of staff for intelligence. In a handwritten questionnaire used by senior leaders to evaluate his candidacy, he noted that between two combat tours, the other occurring in Saudi Arabia and Kuwait during the 1991 Persian Gulf War, he encountered enemy fire 25 times and received two Bronze Stars for his combat valor, one during each campaign, plus a third for meritorious service in Afghanistan. Galvin received a Bronze Star for his battlefield valor in Iraq in 2005.

At each man’s center exists a moral imperative to lead by example, a product of genetics and their respective upbringings as much as their military education and training. As officers, Morgan said, they are obligated to do right by those they lead and always to differentiate right from wrong. But in this case, Morgan said, too many officers let politics and personal ambitions cloud their responsibility to find the truth.

“Why am I still invested in this?” he said. “It is my duty. … Part of the soul of being a Marine is you trust all your officers. And what has happened here is a lot of officers, figuratively speaking, kicked to the ground and stomped on a bunch of enlisted men’s heads. Fred’s kids are hurting.

“The wounds go deep. … It’s an injury to the soul.”

Marine Capt. Joseph Schweitzer, seen here in 1999, endured endured circumstances similar to those experienced by Fox Company’s Marines after he and three other Marine officers faced criminal charges in the tragic death of 20 skiers in the Italian Alps.

Photo Credit: RANDY DAVEY/REUTERS

Like Galvin and his Marines, Schweitzer and his colleagues experienced a rush to judgment. In the case of Fox Company, a military investigator favored the accounts of Afghan witnesses over those provided by the Marines. In Schweitzer’s case, the military investigation into their incident relied heavily on eyewitness statements gathered by Italian police, not experts in understanding what causes aviation mishaps. Fox Company’s Marines were called “cowboys.” The men of EASY01 were accused of “hotdogging” and having a “taste for risk.”

“When incidents like ours happen,” said Schweitzer, who’s now 47, “they take on a life of their own regardless of the facts. We had to wait until the trial to prove most of those witness statements were wrong and inaccurate.”

He was cleared of the most serious charges, including negligent homicide, but pleaded guilty to destroying a cockpit video that showed him smiling several minutes before the accident. Schweitzer avoided jail time but was dismissed from the servicefollowing his trial in 1999.

In 2007 he was diagnosed with chronic post traumatic stress, marked by panic attacks, depression, a “lost sense of self” and professional setbacks, he wrote last year for the website Second Line Defense. Since then he has delivered regular lectures at the U.S. Naval Academy, from which he graduated in 1989, addressing his experience with thousands of future Navy and Marine Corps officers studying the principles of ethical leadership. Moral injury, he says, is “the undefined moment when what was is no longer.”

“You struggle with the question: Am I a Marine? They don’t want me to be a Marine. Am I killer? Who am I?” Schweitzer said. “That’s a question Fred and his men will be asking for another 20 years maybe — until they come to terms with and understand where they are now.”

Through his experience, Schweitzer believes “survivors heal survivors.” He and Galvin have connected, Schweitzer said. “I wanted him to know ‘Hey, someone’s here who understands.’ The important thing is to put your story in context and re-find yourself. Get beyond the tactical, raw details. You can’t go backyards. Go forward. Tell the story, it’ll set you free. And use the power of survival to understand your strengths.”

Galvin went home to eastern Kansas. His military career was over. For the full year leading up to his retirement, he applied for job after job after job, domestically and abroad, tailoring his application each time. “The fact of the matter: Nobody was interested in hiring me, whatsoever,” he said.

For the other Fox Company members who’ve gotten out — most barely in their 30s — it’s been a mixed bag. Some caught on with defense contractors or the so-called “three-letter” government agencies that still have a stake in the war on terrorism. Others took a severe hit financially while fighting to stay out of prison. Three of the four men who were married are now divorced, including Galvin. “There was complete uncertainty,” he said. “It looked like a jail sentence was pending — and that doesn’t make anyone’s marriage any easier. It was like putting people in a pressure cooker. Things were bound to explode.”

Some have battled substance abuse and lasting trauma stemming from the dark memories of what they experienced during war. “I did multiple tours,” said one of Fox Company’s Marines, “and I deal with a bit from each one.” During his first combat deployment after being reassigned from Fox Company, “I thought ‘This is the one that’s going to take me down,'” he said, recalling how he felt anxious yet gun-shy, scared to fire his weapon for fear that doing so would lead to trouble all over again.

One man said that to this day he is afraid even to walk into Wal-Mart. “I’m worried,” he said, “that one of these extremists will find me and harm my family.”

For those who’ve stayed in the Marine Corps and within MARSOC specifically, there’s still a stigma. Fox Company’s legacy is largely regarded as a blotch on what’s become a very successful addition to the military’s special forces portfolio. Some of the unit’s Marines who’ve moved up the ranks use the experience for educational purposes, forever mindful that, right or wrong, there is much to be learned from what happened.

Their critics agree with that much. The lesson of Fox Company, as they see it: Don’t be like these guys. Multiple Marines interviewed for this series pointed out what they regard as a pattern of unprofessionalism. Despite that the court of inquiry recommended no further punitive action be taken against Galvin, the Marine Corps referred him to a board of inquiry, an administrative hearing much like a trial that can result in an officer’s involuntary separation from the service. The proceeding never happened, though. His attorneys successfully lobbied to make it go away, saying the court of inquiry proved there were no facts supporting any misconduct on Galvin’s part.

Galvin checked out of MARSOC and returned to the reconnaissance community where he’d served for several years prior. In 2011, while advising a reconnaissance battalion commander in Afghanistan, he landed in trouble again. After a heated dispute with his commanding officer over how to safely provide fire support to Marines pinned down in an ambush, Galvin received another poor performance evaluation. “I sent letters to all eighty eight members of the House and Senate armed services committees along with a sworn statement and a polygraph,” Galvin said. “On Christmas Day, a month after I contacted Congress, I got a gift-wrapped package from a three-star general saying I have to go to another board of inquiry.”

This time there was a hearing to separate him from the service. The prosecuting attorneys brought up everything from Galvin’s time with Fox Company, which by that point was five years in the past. He prevailed once more and in fact was assigned command of one of the Marine Corps’ FAST companies, small anti-terror security units tasked with protecting Navy nuclear assets and reinforcing threatened American embassies and other government facilities abroad. In one of his last big moments as a commanding officer, a platoon of his Marines deployed into Libya after the 2012 terrorist attack in Benghazi that that killed U.S. Ambassador Chris Stevens.

Back in Kansas City, it’s a bitter subzero day in early January. Galvin circulates throughout the inner city, stopping at several of his outdoor ATMs, anchored by a system he designed that makes them extremely difficult to steal.

Galvin and his security team roll up well armed and at all hours to help “mitigate risk.” They restock the machines with $20 bills, 10s, 5s and 1s. Galvin inspects his security equipment and polishes their ATMs’ exteriors. His customers want to feel safe when they drive up or walk up to make withdrawals, he explains.

The Kansas City police, he says, is a “strong ally.” He’s worked closely with them over the past year to better understand crime trends. Just weeks prior, in a neighborhood near two of Galvin’s cash machines, a gunman standing on the sidewalk opened fire on a public bus as it drove by, pumping multiple rounds into the cabin and wounding a teenage girl inside. The incident was captured by the bus’ surveillance cameras.

Galvin had considered putting a machine at this location upon launching Arrowhead Capital. ” It is a good area,” he says, “because although there is one bank, they do not have an ATM at all because of the risk. In the business community they term that as a barrier which prohibits a lot of investors from entering the market.”

Along the route, Galvin talks at length about his military training and the applicable skills in his new line of work. He uses terms like “counter-reconnaissance” when surveying for anomalies that could indicate a threat is imminent, and “key terrain analysis” to describe how he identifies desirable locations for new ATMs.

One such lot has special meaning. It’s the site of a future Conoco gas station and convenience store. The property was once owned by Galvin’s grandfather, his Opa, a German immigrant who came to America with very little and built a life for his family, first as a butcher and later as the owner of a bar and grill here in what’s become Kansas City’s urban core. Relating the story proves difficult. There’s pain associated with it.

The battle-hardened Marine swipes away his tears and apologizes. There’s a long drawn breath of the winter air, and then it’s time to move out.

“In my heart,” Galvin said later, “I want to move on. If I can just get my life back.”

He believes central to that, for him and his men, is a formal statement of vindication from the Marine Corps for Fox Company’s actions in Afghanistan on March 4, 2007. That’s been his quest ever since. Next year, MARSOC celebrates its 10th anniversary. How the story of its first unit sent to combat will be told remains to be seen.

Andrew deGrandpre is Military Times’ digital news director.
Email:

adegrandpre@militarytimes.com
Twitter: @adegrandpre

Two days prior, on March 4, 2007, the Marines were in a fight for their lives along a treacherous stretch of highway in eastern Afghanistan’s Nangarhar province. Now, a senior Air Force officer sent from Qatar was picking apart what transpired after their convoy was hit by suicide car bomber. Local Afghans alleged the Marines went berserk, killing and wounding more than two dozen innocent civilians. The Marines, members of an elite commando force, said they were caught in a complex ambush, using precise, measured and justified force to suppress the threat and escape the kill zone.

Pihana’s findings would touch off one of the most publicized war-crimes cases in recent American history. But as a newly declassified report reveals, his work wasn’t only flawed, it was found to be “unbalanced,” in some ways “inappropriate,” and potentially influenced by the Army general who ordered the investigation right before making an unprecedented decision to evict the Marines’ entire unit from the war zone.

All seven Marines ultimately were cleared of wrongdoing related to the March 4 attack — but at great cost to their reputations, physical health and emotional bearing, and that of their families. Long before their day in court, these men were branded killers by the very institution that had an obligation to provide them due process free of any bias or unlawful influence. At least one member of Congress and several senior military leaders — including the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, a Marine general at the time — weighed in publicly, all seemingly convinced the report’s findings were sound.

“I felt at the time like if the facts were being looked at in an unbiased way, there shouldn’t be any question, there shouldn’t be any problem at all,” one of those Marines recalled. “But then there was a feeling of ‘Wow, this is really happening. We’re up against the machine.'”

As detailed in the first three installments of this series, “Task Force Violent: The unforgiven,” those at the heart of the controversy were assigned to Marine Special Operations Company Foxtrot, the first unit sent into combat by MARSOC, the Marine Corps’ contribution to U.S. Special Operations Command. In many ways Fox Company’s Marines were in deep trouble from the word go, the victims of poor guidance and woefully insufficient support from their higher headquarters. A tenuous situation became turbulent once in theater, culminating with their ouster, investigation, trial by public opinion and eventual adjudication during a three-week military tribunal held in January 2008.

Pihana, who has since retired from the Air Force, declined to be interviewed. “In recalling that event I remain convinced there is nothing substantial I could add, remove or change to the original inquiry,” he said. “… I can understand the personal feelings involved but that would not change the thrust of the investigation.”

The court of inquiry, a rarely used format, was overseen by a panel of three senior Marine Corps officers, whose findings are outlined in the newly declassified report. It was provided to Military Times — along with nearly 2,000 pages of supplemental materials — by Galvin, Fox Company’s commander. Additional insights were gleaned through interviews with Fox Company Marines and others familiar with their case, many of whom agreed to speak only on condition of anonymity as some still hold sensitive jobs within the Defense Department and elsewhere in the federal government. Others cited lingering fears of violent retaliation by enemies affiliated with those they encountered on the battlefield eight years ago.

Pihana’s full investigation remains unreleasable, along with more than 1,500 pages of courtroom testimony provided by many of the senior military officers connected to the case. It is, however, summarized within the court’s report.

No one disputes the Marines were attacked by a suicide car bomber. The blast was ferocious and nearly killed all five men riding inside the second of six humvees in their convoy. However, Afghan villagers did contest the Marines’ unanimous assertion that an ambush ensued — specifically that enemy small-arms fire targeted the patrol from both sides of the highway, prompting the Marines to defend themselves.

Pihana arrived at Jalalabad Airfield, the Marines’ base in Afghanistan, within 48 hours of the attack. Members of the patrol told Military Times that he made them instantly uncomfortable. Apart from his service affiliation and apparent unfamiliarity with front line combat operations, upon introducing himself to the group he made a request they found bizarre. “You can all call me Pat,” Galvin recalled the colonel saying. “No Marine Corps colonel would have ever told any Marines of junior rank to call him by his first name.”

Pihana never told any of the Marines, some of whom he interviewed more than once, that they were suspected of wrongdoing, he told the court. He did not advise them of their rights either, he testified, as required whenever American service members are suspect of breaking the law or violating military regulations.

Many of the one-on-one interviews were interrupted by phone calls from Pihana’s boss, Army Maj. Gen. Frank Kearney, then the head of Special Operations Command Central. SOCCENT (pronounced “sock-sent”) was a subordinate component within U.S. Central Command, a four-star organization with purview at the time of all U.S. military activity in Afghanistan, Iraq, and other hotspots throughout the Middle East and Africa. Pihana was Kearney’s chief of staff at SOCCENT, which the court’s three officers flagged, saying the selection inherently raised questions about objectivity and neutrality.

During his testimony, Pihana told the court of inquiry that initially he believed the Marines, and that upon inspecting the damaged humvee it appeared to bear the scars of having been hit by small-arms fire. He sought out two explosives experts also based at Jalalabad, Jason Mero, an Army sergeant first class, and Gary Simpson, a Navy petty officer first class. Mero would later recount to NCIS agents how Pihana, unfamiliar with explosives and their effects, asked them for help differentiating bullet impacts from damage caused by flying metal fragments from the bomb blast.

Both told Pihana the humvee was likely hit by bullets — specifically high powered weapons and small arms fire. Pihana initially agreed, Mero told the agents, according to a signed written statement, but doubt set in for the colonel after he went to the scene of the attack and spoke with some of the Afghans who claimed to have witnessed what happened.

Pihana called on Mero again. He “tried to convince me that the damage caused to the front plastic turret plate was a result of a round coming from inside the turret gunner’s space,” Mero told the NCIS agents. About six weeks later, at the request of NCIS, Mero printed his photos of the humvee. “I noticed that the damage to the turret had been altered,” he told the agents. “When I viewed the humvee the first time, the damage to the turret was at an angle that the damage was caused from the outside of the humvee coming into the turret.” The last time he saw the vehicle, “the damaged part of the turret had been altered so that the damage appeared to have been caused by something coming from inside the turret.”

Pihana elected not to include Mero’s statement in his final report, a decision the court called both “inappropriate” and possibly attributable to the fact it did not support his conclusion.

The casualty count was a moving target. The UN concluded 13 Afghans were killed on March 4 and another 36 were wounded, according to court documents. The Afghan National Police tallied seven dead and 23 injured.

Kearney approved Pihana’s findings in April 2007 and notified Navy Adm. William Fallon, then the four-star head of U.S. Central Command. Days later the Army general gave an interview to the Washington Postexplaining that Pihana’s investigation concluded the Marines killed or wounded more than 40 Afghan civilians. It found no evidence, he told the Post, of enemy small-arms fire. He said only that the Marines believed they were being fired upon. At least 10 people were killed and 33 wounded, including children and the elderly, Kearney said, calling the incident “catastrophic … from a perceptions point of view.”

Gen. James Conway was the Marine Corps’ commandant when Fox Company was expelled from Afghanistan. He took issue with an Army commander’s apology to Afghan villagers after the events of March 4.

Photo Credit: Staff Sgt. D. Myles Cullen/DoD

Attempts to reach Smith, Pace and Conway were unsuccessful.

Less than a month later, during early May 2007, Army Col. John Nicholson greeted the Pentagon press corps via satellite from Jalalabad Airfield, from which he oversaw all military activity in the region. Earlier in the day, Nicholson, now a three-star general in charge of NATO Land Command in Turkey, presided over what’s called a solatia ceremony. In accordance with Afghan custom, he explained, he and other leaders handed out money — solatia — as a gesture of the United States’ collective remorse for what happened March 4.

Such payouts are not intended to convey liability, Nicholson told reporters. But what he said next expressed the opposite. Reading from prepared remarks he shared with the Afghan villagers during the solatia ceremony, Nicholson apologized. “I stand by you today deeply, deeply ashamed and terribly sorry that Americans have killed and wounded innocent Afghan people,” he said, calling the incident a “stain” on the American military’s honor. “This was a terrible, terrible mistake.”

Through an Army spokesperson, Nicholson declined to discuss the case with Military Times, saying that doing so would be inappropriate as his testimony remains classified. In 2008, he told the court of inquiry that he wrote the speech personally and carefully to avoid prejudicing the Marines by alluding to their actions specifically, the court’s report says. But then Nicholson did precisely that in media interviews following the solatia ceremony, the court’s report shows. He also said there were 19 dead and 50 wounded.

Congressman Walter Jones, a Republican member of the House Armed Services Committee whose district in eastern North Carolina includes Fox Company’s home base, Camp Lejeune, was “incensed” upon reading media reports of the unit’s removal from Afghanistan. He’d never met Galvin or the men in his unit accused of committing battlefield atrocities, but Jones believed they deserved the benefit of the doubt — and that the military brass was out of line for discussing the investigation publicly before the military had even decided how it would dispose of the case.

“I was shocked because of my great respect for the Marine Corps and special ops,” Jones told Military Times during a recent interview in his Capitol Hill office, which is adorned with numerous military mementos, notably a wall display featuring the names and faces of dozens of Camp Lejeune Marines killed in combat since 9/11. “My disbelief was such that I just had to give the benefit of the doubt to these Marines. And then when the Army came out with their press release, … almost like they weren’t upset that they had to ask the Marine Corps to leave [Afghanistan], I was very incensed.

“I have a moral responsibility,” he said, “if I see a wrong, to try to make it right.”

The congressman wrote to Defense Secretary Robert Gates and Army Secretary Pete Geren furious that the Marines’ “presumption of innocence” was cast aside and their “reputations maligned.” Nicholson’s apology to Afghan villagers, he said at the time, amounted to a public conviction. Days later, perhaps goaded by Jones’ public rebuke of the Army, the blunt-speaking Marine Corps commandant aired his perspective — and that was for everyone to shut up and let the legal process play out. As for the Army’s apology, Conway called it premature.

Ilario Pantano, seen here in 2010, endured circumstances similar to those experienced by Fox Company’s Marines after he was accused of killing innocent Iraqis in 2004.

Photo Credit: Logan Wallace/AP

In mid-2007, Galvin and his men met with Pantano at a Barnes & Noble bookstore in Wilmington, North Carolina, a coastal city some 60 miles south of Camp Lejeune where Pantano and his family settled upon leaving active duty. “They wanted to know how to survive the system because I’d been through it,” Pantano, who now leads North Carolina’s veterans affairs division, told Military Times during a recent interview. “They were going up against the machine that produced them, that refined them and was now ready to destroy them.”

There was $36,000 remaining in the Defend the Defenders fund, Pantano said. He offered it to them, saying simply: “You’re not alone.” Galvin was humbled but refused to accept any money. “Take care of my men,” he told Pantano. A few attorneys, including Knox Nunnally and Phillip Stackhouse, defended the Marines pro bono.

Now 43, Pantano became emotional while recounting the story. Doing so, he said, triggers post-traumatic stress. He was falsely labeled a murderer. The memory of how that affected his family remains vivid and upsetting. Over time he’s come to accept that the Marine Corps’ mission in such instances is not to defend individual Marines but to defend the institution. There are high standards, he said, and the service has a responsibility to investigate any allegations they’ve not been adhered to. “Unfortunately,” he added, “when you’re on the other end of the scrub brush, it leaves scars.”

Pantano stood by Fox Company in the months to come. He even had Galvin to his home for dinner. “Look at this as one more combat mission,” he recalls telling the Marines. “The Marine Corps has a mission to do, and so do you. Do your pre-planning and coordination. Prepare your counterattack. What are the enemy’s weaknesses? Think like Marines and defend yourselves. Don’t be sheep. If you’re sheep, you’ll be sacrificed and they’ll slit your throat.”

Lt.Col. Scott Jack, left, walks into court with his client Maj. Fred Galvin on Jan. 8, 2008 at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina.

Photo Credit: Randy Davey/File

Mattis declined to be interviewed for this report. In recalling the almost freewheeling nature of the proceedings, retired Lt. Col. Steve Morgan, one of the three officers who oversaw the tribunal, speculated the general perhaps hoped to lay bare the full scope of Fox Company’s challenges before, during and after its deployment. Others said it had to be comprehensive as to leave no room for doubt that the United States addressed the allegations thoroughly and seriously. It couldn’t be viewed as a whitewash.

By the time the court convened, so much had been said and reported about the incident and investigation that Morgan, for one, had a very good sense for the details — and how he felt about the matter. So good, in fact, he’d practically made up his mind. “When I walked in there,” he said, “I was ready to send these guys to the brig. Everything I had known and some of the read-aheads that I had received to prepare myself. … I had this notion in my head: Maybe these guys did what it had been said they’d done.”

That changed once evidence was presented, he said. Pihana’s investigation was flawed. Witness testimony and defense motions raised other flags. There were stark differences, Morgan said, between what had been recorded by investigators and what was said in the courtroom. “It began to become clear to me fairly early,” he added, “that something was amiss with the idea these guys were guilty of some sort of heinous crime on the battlefield.”

“To my recollection, we wore uniforms at all times when we met with witnesses,” he said via email. “Had we not, the effort to mislead MSOC-F Marines would have been futile. Our roles in the COI and our ranks were well known to … defense counsels and any number of MSOC-F personnel who we previously interviewed. Phil and I visited the MARSOC [headquarters] on multiple occasions before the hearing began and before interviewing witnesses. I assume we were well known to every member of MSOC-F well in advance of interacting with them.”

Sanchez, now a lieutenant colonel stationed in California, described his role during the court of inquiry as that of an investigator. All of the interviews he conducted were done with or led by NCIS agents, he said. The Marines, he said, “didn’t like be challenged. They didn’t like penetrating questions. They didn’t like the fact that I didn’t accept their version of the story.”

Added Sanger: “The only sources of this accusation that I’m aware of had a vested interest in discrediting the investigation.” The accusation would become the basis for a professional misconduct complaint advocated by Galvin’s attorney, a threat that quietly went away in the months following the court of inquiry.

The government’s case emphasized the Marine Corps’ “cardinal rule of command,” which maintains the commander is responsible for everything his unit does or fails to do. As Fox Company’s commander, Galvin bucked the rules too many times, the attorneys argued. A PowerPoint slide displayed during the government’s closing arguments read “MSOC-F takes no responsibility!!”

Upon reading that, Morgan scrawled on a printout of the presentation: “Did higher headquarters?”

The defense hammered at the reliability of Pihana’s investigation, and moved to show that the Afghans claiming to be witnesses had a motive to “exaggerate, fabricate or lie” about what they saw: cold, hard cash. “We know,” their closing arguments read, “that some of the Afghans were told by their village elders to lie about being injured so that they could receive monetary payments from the Americans. We now also know that the solatia payments for the deceased Afghans were significantly greater than the death estimate made by NCIS … of 5-7 because solatia payments were made to 17 individuals.”

Galvin’s attorneys linked one of the government’s key witnesses to the suicide car bomber that hit Fox Company’s patrol. Haji Liwani Qumadan was allegedly driving the blue Toyota Prado seen shot to hell in images captured by an Associated Press photographer who was on scene moments after the attack. The Marines told investigators they took fire from inside and around the Prado. Qumadan said he and his passengers — first it was three, then two — were innocent bystanders and demanded to be reimbursed for the $10,000 in Afghan currency he claimed was destroyed by Marine bullets, plus the cost of his Prado. Qumadan told the court via video that he intended to buy fuel and fertilizer on March 4.

NCIS agents uncovered evidence to suggest Qumadan was en route to meet with an individual who’d recently been released from the American detention facility in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, according to the defense attorney’s closing argument. The court’s transcripts indicate Qumadan claimed not to have seen the bomb go off and that he was shot in the back — twice. “Our Marines were firing machines guns,” Galvin said. “If he was shot in the back twice by a medium machine gun — and survived — he’s a hell of a dude, and it’s ironic that people said we used ‘excessive force.'” The court’s officers ultimately highlighted numerous inconsistencies with Qumadan’s statements, and concluded that Qumadan either wasn’t present when the attack occurred or he was lying about what he claimed to have witnessed.

Sanger, one of the assistant counsels to the court, brought in two witnesses who provided what he called the strongest, most unbiased evidence supporting Fox Company’s version of events. He located the patrol’s Afghan interpreter, whose testimony was not included in Pihana’s investigation, and a foreign aid worker who was about 500 yards from the highway when the attack occurred. Both testified to hearing small-arms fire after the blast, a small amount at first followed by more as gunfire spread and was exchanged.

Morgan and his two colleagues overseeing the court, Sanger noted, focused on this key point in exonerating the Marines of the most serious allegations brought against them. “If someone has made an accusation that I or anyone else was hell bent on doing anyone harm,” he added, “please remind them of this.”

The court’s report includes 389 findings of fact, 104 opinions and 13 recommendations. It was finalized in March 2008. On the Friday before Memorial Day, the senior officer who replaced Mattis at Marine Corps Forces, U.S. Central Command, Lt. Gen. Samuel Helland, distributed a news release indicating that in his final estimation, Fox Company’s Marines acted appropriately on the battlefield and in accordance with rules governing the use of force. There would be no criminal charges for their actions in Bati Kot.

That evening, the Associated Press distributed a short story to media outlets around the world. America took a break for the long weekend. By the following week Fox Company was already a fading memory. The case everyone wanted to discuss was fast becoming a story no one wanted to remember.

Andrew deGrandpre is Military Times’ digital news director.
Email: adegrandpre@militarytimes.com
Twitter: @adegrandpre

Editor’s note: This is the third in a five-part series.

The attack still replays in high definition: The van approaches, then makes a hard, tire-shrieking turn into the convoy. It’s loaded with enough fuel and firepower to kill everyone in at least one of the Marines’ six humvees. Those closest figure they are goners.

The turret gunner, Sgt. Josh Henderson, was partially exposed when a roar of fire and smoke swallowed him and the four others inside. In that instant some thought about their families, and how the military would inform them their kids had died on a highway in Nangarhar province, Afghanistan. Armed insurgents watched from both sides of the road, poised to finish the job — or die trying.

The Marines had never seen such a massive fireball. “Oh my God,” the patrol commander thought. “All of my men are dead.” From his vantage point directly behind the targeted humvee, the second in their procession, this was a perfectly reasonable assumption. If any Americans had died that day, March 4, 2007, it’s likely no one would have questioned what happened next.

But when the smoke started to settle and Henderson re-emerged behind his M240G medium machine gun, the sound of incoming small-arms fire set off a series of events that would metastasize into a war crimes investigation and the unprecedented decision by an American general to evict the Marines’ entire 120-man unit from Afghanistan. They’d been on the ground for barely one month.

As detailed in this series’ first two installments, the attack and subsequent ambush involved 30 members of what was then the Marine Corps’ brand-new commando force, MARSOC, which conducts high-speed, low-key missions at the direction of U.S. Special Operations Command. They were assigned to Marine Special Operations Company Foxtrot, the first MARSOC unit ever deployed into combat. And over the next year their lives would become a living hell as military investigators zeroed in on seven of these men, and prosecutors built a case to put them in prison for the alleged deaths of nearly two dozen innocent Afghans.

Eventually they were cleared of wrongdoing during the ambush. No one went to prison. The Marine Corps convened a rare court of inquiry to fully examine why Fox Company’s deployment was brought to such a quick and inglorious end. That court would determine that while the unit’s leaders exhibited poor judgment in the days after the attack, the Marines responded correctly to the ambush and ultimately became victims of their higher headquarters’ indifference, incompetence and impatience.

The court’s proceedings, overseen by a panel of three senior Marine Corps officers, spanned three weeks in January 2008. Its findings are outlined in a newly declassified 98-page report provided to Military Times — along with nearly 2,000 pages of supplemental materials — by Fox Company’s commander on that deployment, Maj. Fred Galvin, who retired from the service in 2014. Additional insights were gleaned through interviews with Fox Company Marines and others familiar with their case, many of whom agreed to share their stories on the condition of anonymity as some still hold sensitive jobs within the Defense Department and elsewhere in the federal government. Others cited lingering fears of violent retaliation by enemies affiliated with those they encountered on the battlefield eight years ago.

Fox Company had a call sign, “Violent,” derived from the Marine Corps’ doctrine on warfighting. “The essence of war is a violent struggle between two hostile, independent and irreconcilable wills,” the manual states. It references the term more than two dozen times, Galvin noted. To Galvin, that encapsulated what Fox Company would need to understand and embrace about its mission in Afghanistan. “War is very active,” he said. “It’s not clean or precise. The enemy can hurt you. It needed to be understood by our men that this is what we were going to do. It’s not a lovely thing when you’re fighting another human being who’s trying to kill you.”

Galvin’s superiors disapproved of the name and told him to change it. “Break stuff and kill things, sure, that’s the Marine Corps’ mantra. But special forces is different,” said a senior MARSOC officer critical of Galvin’s selection to the lead the command’s first combat unit. Special operations forces, he said, are expected to be quiet professionals. “Fred gets his shot and comes up with ‘Task Force Violent’? What message does that send to our partners and counterparts in whose area we have to operate?”

Maj. Gen. Christopher Haas was a colonel in 2007 when he led the Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force in Afghanistan. Friction between his staff and Fox Company precipitated the Marines’ eventual ouster from the war zone.

For Fox Company, those areas were overseen by Army Col. Christopher Haas, commander of the Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force for Afghanistan, and Army Col. John Nicholson, commander of Task Force Spartan. Haas directed all special forces activity in theater. Nicholson owned the “battle space” surrounding Afghanistan’s border with Pakistan, where Task Force Violent would operate. Both men are generals now.

Haas and his staff with the CJSOTF (pronounced “see-juh-so-tiff”) had operational control of Fox Company, meaning they approved Galvin’s missions. But the Marines couldn’t go anywhere without coordination with Nicholson’s team, which had “veto power” over any proposed activity in its area of responsibility. This arrangement proved problematic for everyone, and a major reason for the confusion and frustration that preempted Fox Company’s eviction from Afghanistan, the court of inquiry determined. It was further hampered by Fox Company’s liaison to the CJSOTF, Marine Maj. Scott Ukeiley, whose alleged failures and communication deficiencies contributed significantly to Fox Company’s rotten relationship with Haas and Nicholson, the court’s report shows.

Fox Company arrived in early February 2007, transiting through Bagram Airfield where the CJSOTF was headquartered. There was immediate friction between the two staffs, the court’s report notes. Haas and his team were nearing the end of their deployment and intently focused on providing a smooth transition for their replacements. Compounding this, senior leaders within Special Operations Command made a late decision to employ Fox Company in Afghanistan — so late, in fact, that when the destination was finally announced, the unit and its equipment were already loaded on the Navy ships bringing them overseas. As a result, the court concluded, Haas and his staff “did not fully understand its capabilities and limitations and therefore did not understand how to properly employ” Fox Company.

Haas, now a two-star general serving as director of force management and development at SOCOM headquarters in Florida, agreed to address questions via email and through a spokesman. The CJSOTF had no information about Fox Company’s force structure or core capabilities before the Marines arrived, he said. The Marines’ mission was “to fill a critical gap in southern Nangarhar Province for Task Force Spartan by replacing the French special operations task force” that had moved out several weeks prior.

Haas said he and his staff gave Galvin and his leadership team a detailed briefing explaining the missions they’d be assigned while in Afghanistan. In order of priority they were: reconnaissance, counterinsurgency and foreign internal defense (i.e. training Afghan security forces), and direct-action special-reconnaissance operations — that is, the pursuit of high-value enemy operatives. Through his spokesman, Haas said they were together at Bagram about one week. Galvin says the CJSOTF staff made clear that his Marines were to conduct “aggressive combat operations.”

THE BATTLE SPACE: Fox Company arrived in Bagram, Afghanistan, in February 2007 and soon shipped out to Jalalabad Airfield in Nangarhar province.

Fox Company departed Bagram for Jalalabad Airfield where they would establish Camp Raider, a namesake intended to honor the first-ever Marine commandos who are revered for their fearlessness during some of World War II’s most grisly engagements in the Pacific. When they arrived, however, the place was a dump. Electricity was spotty at best, the court’s report says. There were no sleeping quarters. The Marines would have to identify, vet, train and contract a group of local Afghans to serve as security guards. They even had to hunt down someone to collect their trash. And when one of the unit’s medics inspected the camp’s water supply, he found their well was contaminated with fecal matter — a parting gift from the French, Galvin surmised.

By far, Fox Company’s most dire and problematic shortcoming was its lack of internal logistical support. Despite Galvin’s detailed and persistent requests stretching back nearly a year, MARSOC headquarters failed to provide the necessary personnel, rendering the unit completely dependent on the CJSOTF for food, ammunition, replacement parts for their humvees and weapons — absolutely everything. The CJSOTF was “accommodating,” the court’s report says, but ultimately unprepared to provide the wholesale sustainment the Marines required.

Through his spokesman, Haas said that his staff inspected the facilities at Camp Raider and determined what repairs were required. “They also drew Fox Company’s up-armored vehicles and crew-served weapons, and prepositioned them at the Jalalabad Airfield,” he said. ”… CJSOTF-A provided cooks who opened and operated Fox Company’s mess hall. They also provided a forklift driver and a vehicle mechanic.”

Galvin says Fox Company all but begged Haas’ staff for food and other vital supplies — and that their requests were ignored. Haas, through his spokesman, disputed that claim. Fox Company, he said, was treated “like every other CJSOTF subordinate unit.”

“I respectfully disagree,” said Derik Erickson, the Army logistics officer who was detailed to Afghanistan from Fort Bragg, North Carolina, when officials realized Fox Company arrived in the war zone with no internal support. “I can’t speak for every single unit the CJSOTF supported. Maybe others were treated like shit, too, but I doubt it because most of them were Army [special forces] units. Fox Company was a redheaded stepchild.”

Yes, there was bottled water and MREs, short for “meals ready to eat,” the flavorless pre-packaged and preservative-laden rations troops consume when they’re far removed from a robust supply chain. But after more than five years of war in Afghanistan, Jalalabad Airfield, with its proximity to the Tora Bora mountains, was a well-established, well-supplied launch pad for the American government’s multidimensional campaign to unearth intelligence about bin Laden’s whereabouts. It was, Erickson said, a “mature theater.” The Navy SEALs who were based there didn’t have to eat that crap. Why did the Marines?

The nucleus of Nicholson’s Task Force Spartan, also headquartered at Jalalabad Airfield, comprised the 3rd Brigade of the Army’s 10th Mountain Division. Compared to the CJSOTF’s support apparatus in Bagram, these guys had robust infrastructure. Because support from Bagram was not readily forthcoming, the crafty logistician struck deals with the 10th Mountain Division however and whenever he could. But when the CJSOTF’s support battalion learned he was bypassing protocol, “you’d have thought I committed a mortal sin,” Erickson said. “I got angry phone calls asking ‘what the ‘F’ are you doing?’” Then they sent some food supplies to the Marines — a bulk shipment of mostly flour and oil. “It’s like they cleaned out a back room and threw it in a truck so they’d shut up,” Erickson added. “I looked at it and said: ‘What am I supposed to do with this? We don’t have any cooks for God’s sake.‘”

Erickson remembers seeing the Marines’ convoy arrive back at the base after the ambush March 4. Henderson, the turret gunner whose life was nearly extinguished by the suicide bomb blast, was hit in the arm by flying debris. The wound was minor, but his uniform was a torn, bloody mess. Erickson contacted the CJSOTF’s supply staff to requisition a new one. Sorry, they said. Talk to MARSOC. So he phoned MARSOC headquarters at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. Staff there told him that he’d need to speak with the CJSOTF.

Eventually, Erickson got through to a sympathetic gunnery sergeant who agreed to take Erickson’s credit card number, drive over to the base exchange store, purchase Henderson’s replacement uniform and ship it to Jalalabad.

The effort proved moot: Fox Company was kicked out of Afghanistan before the replacement uniform arrived. No one wanted to help these guys, Erickson said. “Here’s me and this gunny, doing it the wrong way to get this kid his uniform because we couldn’t do it the right way,” he said, laughing slightly at the incredulity of it all. “The Army let these guys down, and so did the Marine Corps.”

A BLESSING AND A CURSE

The convoy pushed out around 6 a.m. for an approved three-phase mission expected to last several hours. Each humvee held five men and at least one crew-served weapon. The Marines were members of Fox Company’s direct action special reconnaissance platoon, and most were experienced combat veterans culled from the Marine Corps’ elite 2nd Force Reconnaissance Company, which was deactivated as MARSOC was brought online.

It was slightly overcast. The late-winter air was damp and crisp. Visibility was fine. Driving east along Highway 1, they passed through a handful of small villages, including Bati Kot, where the final phase of their mission called for a meeting with tribal elders intended to help the Marines draw a bead on enemy activity in the area. Men, women and children were out, mixing with vendors. Routine, the Marines would recall, uneventful.

They continued east toward the Pakistan border and Forward Operating Base Torkham, an important U.S. outpost at the foot of the Tora Bora mountains. Much of the American military’s food, fuel and other supplies were trucked into Afghanistan via the border crossing. Recognizing its strategic importance, the Taliban launched regular attacks there. The region also served as a way station for suicide bombers and other extremists. The mountains harbored all manner of troublemakers and enemy intelligence.

Plans called for a brief meeting with the Army’s 66th Military Police Company. Galvin sought permission to stage a quick reaction force at FOB Torkham that could be called upon should a fight break out during future reconnaissance patrols up in the mountains. From there, they’d scope out prospective insertion points along the base of the mountains before heading back to Bati Kot.

Upon rolling into the village, the Marines observed a much different scene. Military-age men lined both sides of the road. They appeared “unfriendly and quiet,” Galvin recalled. Riding in the last of the six humvees, he said aloud that he believed an attack was imminent. Those words were hardly out of his mouth when the bomber struck.

The van’s driver, strapped with explosives that would ignite the additional fuel he was carrying, wedged his vehicle between the first two humvees and set off the massive fireball, bringing the entire convoy to a halt. From about 50 yards away, just south of the highway, insurgents opened fire from inside a blue Toyota Prado that was quickly approaching, Marines told investigators later. They fired back using “controlled bursts.” More small-arms fire came in from the north side of the road, and then again from the south. The Marines fired back again and again. It was a complex ambush.

Galvin and the platoon commander, Capt. Vince Noble, alerted Fox Company’s operations center at Jalalabad and higher headquarters at Bagram that they’d encountered a “SVBIED,” a suicide vehicle-borne improvised explosive device. At Bagram, a watch officer in the CJSOTF’s operations center announced the attack and asked who was involved, according to the court’s report. Ukeiley, as Fox Company’s liaison to the CJSOTF, should have engaged. Instead, when the announcement was made, he made no attempt to confirm whether Fox Company was the unit under attack, the court’s report says. “Maj. Ukeiley went to the break room,” it states.

In Jalalabad, a Marine in Fox Company’s operations center received messages from Galvin and the patrol commander. “VBIED, SAF,” or small arms fire, Galvin’s read. “RETURNED FIRE BROKE CONTACT NO CASUALTY REPORT NO VISIBLE BDA,” or battle damage assessment. CONTACT FROM ENEMY WAS FROM BOTH SIDES OF THE ROAD.” The Marine forwarded the message to Ukeiley via secure email but received no response, he testified. He then tried calling Ukeiley on a secure line but received no answer. He finally reached Ukeiley via unsecure cell phone. “Ukeiley,” the court report says, “was still in the break room.”

Once back at his desk, Ukeiley responded to the email, copying several officers within the CJSOTF headquarters — but not the commander Haas, according to the court’s report. Haas told the court that he was frustrated with Fox Company for not being more timely in communicating to him what was unfolding out on Highway 1.

Citing Ukeiley’s “actions and inactions” that day, the court recommended he be charged with dereliction of duty. One of the panel’s three officers, Lt. Col. Steve Morgan, further advocated that Ukeiley be formally shunned by the Marine Corps. Neither happened. The Marine general who reviewed the court’s recommendations, Lt. Gen. Samuel Helland, disagreed with these specific findings. Ukeiley declined Military Times’ interview request but provided the following statement about his characterization in the court’s report. “I was aware of the COI’s report upon its release in 2008, strongly disagreed with the panel’s portrayal as to my performance, and presented my rebuttal through official correspondence and my chain of command.” He retired from the Marine Corps in 2013.

When it was clear none of the humvees was disabled, the patrol commander decided to abort the mission’s final phase and return to base. Marines in the third and fourth humvees would testify that they saw AK47s on the ground as they rolled past the Toyota Prado. Marines in the last humvee told investigators and the court that they took fire from the vicinity of the Prado as they drove past it.

The ride back to Jalalabad was tense. As the Marines hustled to get free of the danger, they hurled rocks and fired disabling shots at a few oncoming cars, a common warzone practice meant to keep the convoy moving and avoid being pinned in and attacked. Warning shots were fired to disperse a crowd and clear a path for the humvees — all in accordance with protocol, the court determined.

During Fox Company’s predeployment period, the Marines’ spent hours upon hours focusing on precision marksmanship and discriminating shooting scenarios using both personal and crew-served weapons, Galvin said. That included a six-week close-quarters battle course. Their training was centered on decision-making and safety, and throughout the 11-month predeployment period, Marines were on a range at least twice a week, said one of Fox Company’s more senior enlisted Marines. That pace only intensified once the deployment was underway. “Your skills diminish if not,” he added.

Like Galvin, he remains insulted by the suggestion, made by a military investigator, that his Marines were frightened by the suicide attack, lost their cool in its aftermath and fired haphazardly at anything moving. No way, he said. These men were experienced in combat, thoroughly trained and highly disciplined. “I didn’t have a bunch of cowboys,” he added, “because I wouldn’t tolerate it.” Indeed, the officers presiding over the court of inquiry would conclude that the Marines’ actions March 4 were “appropriate and in accordance with the law and established procedures.” Fox Company’s command climate, they said “properly enforced the discriminate and proportional use of force.”

To the guys on the ground, however, such procedures caused tremendous anxiety. In Iraq, the Marines were equipped with nonlethal weapons, such as horns, flares and flashbangs, capable of disorienting and diverting potential threats without causing serious bodily harm. In Afghanistan, they shined flashlights at oncoming cars, waved their arms and threw rocks “because that’s the only thing we had,” said one member of the March 4 patrol. With Fox Company’s logistical shortfalls, there were no nonlethal weapons to be had, he said. Rock throwing was an escalation of force measure passed down from other special forces elements within the CJSOTF.

Afghan journalists arrived at the attack site instantly, followed by soldiers from the Army’s 66th Military Police Company who were instructed to cordon off the area and treat it like a crime scene. Initial media reports suggested the Marines, possibly intoxicated, left their vehicles and intimidated the media and other onlookers. That was false. A soldier with the 66th MPs did confront two journalists who’d breached the cordon, grabbing their cameras and erasing their contents, according to an investigation ordered by Nicholson, the battle-space commander, in response to Afghan complaints of aggressive treatment by American personnel.

Back at Jalalabad, as Galvin compiled after-action reports for higher headquarters, the story was spreading throughout the mainstream media that their Marines were suspected of killing noncombatants. Haas informed him there would be an investigation. The next day, on March 5, Galvin wrote an email to three men he considered mentors, veterans with ties to the Marine Raider and Force Reconnaissance communities. He sought to assuage any concerns that he and his men had acted dishonorably in Bati Kot, telling them: “As you well know, one thing has never, nor will ever change about our enemy. They will exploit deception and information operations as best possible.”

“The media is probably mentioning several versions of the story,” Galvin’s email continued, relaying loose details about the ambush and how the Marines fought back. “We have one version and it’s the truth from our men and myself who were there. … Our men did an amazing job, none sustained more than a scratch and we killed several people who were trying to kill us. The investigation will prove exactly that. … Let the Raiders and Force Reconnaissance Marines and Corpsmen know that we will never let them down.”

The email, which Galvin provided to Military Times, quickly circulated within MARSOC, eventually finding its way to Lt. Col. Paul Montanus, the commander of 2nd Marine Special Operations Battalion and Galvin’s immediate superior. Montanus sent it to MARSOC’s public affairs officer and the second in command, who forwarded it to Maj. Gen. Dennis Hejlik, MARSOC’s top officer.

Hejlik was livid. Fourteen people, including Galvin and Montanus, were copied on his reply. The general felt that Galvin had violated operational security (“OpSec”) by referencing the unit’s tactics and procedures (“TPs”) and its Blue Force Tracker (“BFT”), visualization software that enables troops to see the location of friendly and enemy forces on the battlefield. “We have an ongoing investigation and we send this out to the world? What the hell happened to OpSec?” he wrote. “We are providing information to the enemy on how successful his TPs were and oh by the way we let him know POSITIVELY about BFT. I NEVER want to see this kind of bullshit again — ever! LtCol Montanus you get ahold of Maj Galvin and I want his email recalled — now! … IF any of you have any doubts on how pissed off I am about this then you need to come and see me.”

Hejlik, who retired as a three-star general in 2012, did not respond to multiple requests seeking comment. Montanus, now a colonel who teaches at the U.S. Naval Academy, declined to be interviewed but provided Military Times with a written statement saying “everyone in MARSOC and the Marine Corps wanted, and did everything they could, for Fox Company to be completely and utterly successful.”

The senior MARSOC officer who criticized Galvin’s decision to name the unit Task Force Violent characterized Galvin’s email from Afghanistan as immature, saying that “under no circumstances could Fred perceive his actions would be incorrect.”

“What would prompt a guy to send out a note?” he said. “What part of our training, in terms of operational security, warrants writing your own tell-all?”

Galvin sees it differently. His command’s reaction to the email illustrates an eagerness to “destroy us,” he said. Did no one feel a responsibility to help prove that Fox Company’s Marines performed as trained and according to the rules of engagement? Nothing in his email to those three men was classified national security, Galvin insisted. The term Blue Force Tracker, sensitive military equipment to be sure, was easily searchable on the Internet even in 2007. Besides, Galvin said, if he had compromised operational security, then why was his email forwarded again and again on the Marine Corps’ unsecure network?

“There were no issues with that email when it was reviewed by the court of inquiry,” he said. “It states the same testimony that I and the other Marines have consistently stated from the time we returned from the patrol.”

The three senior officers overseeing the court proceedings concluded that between five and seven people were killed and another 24 to 28 were wounded as a result of the suicide attack, subsequent vehicle accidents and small-arms fire. More than a year later, after Helland approved the court’s recommendation to clear Fox Company of wrongdoing, the men on that patrol were awarded Combat Action Ribbons for their actions that day.

Henderson also received a Purple Heart for the wound he sustained in the bomb blast. He was the only Marine hurt that day. A blessing, and yet a curse. “If the ambush had gone the enemy’s way, God knows what would have happened,” said one of the men on the patrol. ”… When we got back to Jalalabad, I overheard an Army officer say he couldn’t believe such an ambush happened because no Marines came back in body bags.”

“That’s one thing I’ll take to my grave.”

A SUDDEN, UNCEREMONIOUS END

U.S. commanders in the region were in damage-control mode. At the request of Nangarhar’s governor, they agreed to freeze movement for two days along Highway 1 near the attack site. Additionally, Haas ordered Fox Company to stay out of Jalalabad, and all Marines who’d been on the March 4 patrol were benched, “except in exigent circumstances,” until further notice.

Galvin and Noble grew frustrated. The company’s intelligence arm had a good lead on three potential suicide bombers, but the CJSOTF would not approve the mission. “Criminal,” Galvin emailed Noble on March 8, according to the court’s report. “That we know where these guys are and they want to wait for them to blow us up before they get the point.”

Noble sent a heated, flippant response. “Maybe we should get drunk and go on patrol,” he wrote, a reference to the erroneous allegations, made by Afghan villagers, stemming from the March 4 incident. Though proven false, at the time those claims were taken quite seriously by the Marines’ commanders. ”… Our guys are expendable,” Noble’s email continued. “At least if we get blown up again, that’s one less suicide bomber for Nangarhar.”

Neither knew it, but Fox Company’s deployment was about to come to a sudden, unceremonious end.

Noble drafted plans for a reconnaissance mission, scheduled for the night of March 9, the exact nature of which remains sensitive, Galvin said. After the March 4 ambush and the Marines’ counterattack, Fox Company recognized a hostile enemy response was imminent, Galvin said. The enemy was planning to siege Camp Raider.

Noble knew that Fox Company was barred from operating in Jalalabad, so he “masked” the operation by falsely indicating in his request that the mission would take place south of Jalalabad, according to the court’s report. The CJSOTF approved the mission, as staff there understood it. But “the true intent,” the report says, ”… was to operate only in and around Jalalabad.”

Two additional movements were planned: recovery of an enemy weapons cache and recovery of a five-ton truck that had become disabled. A pre-mission briefing was held outlining via PowerPoint the true objective in Jalalabad. Galvin, who was not present for the briefing, did not participate in the operation, though he had secured approval for select members of the March 4 patrol to do so. When Nicholson’s staff inquired with Fox Company about the mission, an officer in the Marines’ operations center sent them the PowerPoint.

The mission commenced, but soon Nicholson’s team contacted Haas’ team with a flurry of questions. Haas tracked down Galvin, who then went to Fox Company’s operations center only to find the display showing Noble’s intended route. “No, what the f—?!” he said. Haas wanted the operation recalled. Galvin immediately complied. It was too late, though.

Marines tasked with recovering the weapons were involved in a humvee rollover. An Afghan man suffered a minor leg injury as a result. The Marines set up a perimeter. When a vehicle approached, the Marines employed two “escalation of force measures,” including a single gunshot to disable it. The car’s windshield shattered, injuring an occupant. No evidence emerged to suggest this was an unjustified use of force, but it was not immediately reported.

The situation only deteriorated from there. The Marines out to recover the 5-ton truck encountered muddy terrain. Both vehicles rolled over on their sides when the brakes seized on the vehicle being towed. One member of the unit suffered a slight injury. “It was a long night,” Galvin said. “We were still dealing with this past when the sun came up, until about 10 in morning.”

When everyone made it back to base, Noble was hot. Initially, he instructed the Marines to lie about what happened should there be an investigation, the court’s report says. One of the unit’s senior enlisted Marines pulled him aside and said that would be inappropriate. Noble realized he was wrong and told the Marine to make certain everyone told the truth, the court’s report says.

“We submitted three missions for execution as soon as the travel ban was lifted,” Galvin said. “These were all approved by our higher headquarters as being appropriate. These missions were also sent to and received by our adjacent units. Every man in Fox Company gave their utmost on March 9 to prevent a determined enemy from attacking us. Did we have fumbles? Yes. But Raiders are ingrained to take the fight to the enemy, which was our focus. Every Marine and corpsman returned alive that night, and the imminent threat stopped until after we were expelled from Afghanistan.”

The court recommended that Noble face charges for providing false information to Galvin about the March 9 operation, for disobeying Haas’ order to stay out of Jalalabad and then asking his Marines to lie about the mission’s true location. Noble declined to discuss the matter with Military Times. The court, however, would say that “given his superior combat record and the mitigating action taken by him to correct his mistakes,” any disciplinary action should be handled administratively. That’s precisely what happened. Noble has two combat valor awards and a Purple Heart, which he received after suffering a near-fatal gunshot wound during the Iraq War’s notorious campaign in Fallujah. He and Galvin remain close friends.

Nicholson, who viewed the March 4 incident as a serious setback to his efforts win the locals’ trust, was exasperated. He emailed a complaint to his superiors, Army Maj. Gen. David Rodriguez and Army Brig. Gen. Joseph Votel. “Most disturbing,” he wrote, “is the deception regarding their real intent once they rolled out of the gate. I regard this as an integrity violation.” The message is summarized in the court of inquiry’s report. “In fact,” it continues, “I relieved a commander for an integrity violation of this nature. He will be out of the Army after his [non-judicial] punishment from you sir. The unit and this commander have broken the trust that must exist between units and commanders operating together on the battlefield. I therefore request that we redeploy this unit ASAP.”

Early the next morning, Ukeiley emailed Galvin outlining what he perceived were Fox Company’s failures. Among other things, it suggested the Marines weren’t team players; that they communicated poorly; that Galvin had failed to effectively lead his unit; that, on the whole, the Marines had not worked within their designated counterinsurgency assignment. Unbeknownst to Galvin, Ukeiley provided several copies of this email to some senior officers, and one made its way to Army Maj. Gen. Frank Kearney, the commanding general of Special Operations Command Central, SOCOM’s delegate to U.S. Central Command.

Hejlik, MARSOC’s commanding general, reached out to Kearney saying by email that he was “at the 95 percent mark” of firing Galvin as Fox Company’s commander. “It’s your call on redeploying the unit,” he said, “but ask for your consideration — I know this is a very good company.” Kearney told Hejlik that the leadership in theater had lost confidence in Fox Company, the court report says.

Ukeiley’s email, the court determined, proved the catalyst for Kearney’s decision to evict Fox Company from Afghanistan. Haas and other leaders read it as fact whereas many of the failures Ukeiley outlined “were in reality his own and those of the CJSOTF-A staff” in Bagram, the court report says. Had Ukeiley taken the time to read the request outlining the March 9 mission, he could have answered the questions Haas and Nicholson posed about Fox Company’s planned activity that night in and around Jalalabad, the court report says. Those in charge could have canceled the mission before the Marines departed.

Nicholson, similarly, was hasty in asking Rodriguez and Votel to redeploy Fox Company, the report says. He never read the March 9 mission request that Fox Company’s operations center provided to his staff. If he had, he could have disapproved it, said Morgan, one of the three Marine officers who oversaw the court proceedings. Before he appeared as a witness during the court of inquiry, Nicholson was unaware the Marines were actually authorized for their March 4 mission through Bati Kot, Morgan said.

Nicholson is now a three-star general overseeing NATO Land Command in Turkey. His testimony during the court of inquiry remains classified, as do several others made by senior leaders at that time. As such, an Army spokesperson said, it would be inappropriate for the general to comment for this story.

An excerpt from the court of inquiry’s findings.

On March 11, 2007, Haas, the CJSOFT commander, sent Kearney a summary of Fox Company’s perceived failures along with a PowerPoint titled “MSOC Challenges.” It was developed from Ukeiley’s email to Galvin and with his assistance. In his message to the general, Haas recommended Fox Company be sent home. Kearney issued the order later that day.

“Factually, the events of 04 March 07 and 09 March 07 are unrelated,” the court concluded. “However, [higher headquarters] were unable to distinguish between the two events.” Linking them led to diminished trust and confidence in Fox Company’s ability to operate in Afghanistan.

Members of MARSOC’s leadership team arrived in theater days later. Montanus, Galvin’s commanding officer, relieved him of command. Galvin addressed his men one last time, saying only that his commanding officer had lost trust and confidence in him. The military’s investigation was underway. Galvin, who saw storm clouds forming, was headed home to find lawyers for him and for his men.

Andrew deGrandpre is Military Times’ digital news director. On Twitter: @adegrandpre